


Not Just a Uniform

by NoOneKnowsIWriteThis



Series: Garashir Age Swap AU [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Age Swap, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Clothing Kink, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, This started as clothing porn and turned into regular porn, skant uniform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 01:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14367618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOneKnowsIWriteThis/pseuds/NoOneKnowsIWriteThis
Summary: Set after Garak and Bashir get back together in chapter 16 of What We May Be, Garak finds something appealing in Bashir's wardrobe and convinces his lover to wear it just for him.





	Not Just a Uniform

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read the main story, all you really need to know is that Garak is roughly 30, while Bashir is roughly 50, has a beard, and previously served on the Enterprise.

“Alright, alright,” Bashir conceded. “You can pick out my clothes.”

Garak smiled and kissed Bashir tenderly before slipping out of the bed and going to the wardrobe. Nearly half of the space was taken up by uniforms, including a dress uniform that Garak was going to insist on tailoring before Bashir wore it again. As Garak began to push the uniforms aside, something caught his eye.

It certainly was a uniform, but the division color was on the chest rather than on the shoulders and the sleeves were short. The uniform itself was about the same length as the tunic for Bashir's dress uniform, but, unlike that one, this one didn't have a set of trousers paired with it.

“I don't think I've ever seen you wear this,” Garak commented, pulling the uniform out so that Bashir could actually see what he was talking about.

Bashir's face lit up in recognition. “Ah. No, I haven't worn a skant uniform since arriving on the station. I should probably just recycle it at this point.”

Garak frowned. “Recycle this?”

“I'd have to replicate a new one anyway,” Bashir said with a shrug. “It's the old style from the Enterprise.”

“Why haven't you done that already?” Garak asked. “This would be far more flattering for you than the uniform that you currently wear.”

Garak held the uniform in front of where his lover was sitting. He could already envision how Bashir would look in this, especially if Garak were to bring it in a bit at the waist. It would emphasize his slender figure, and, combined with the slight heels of his regulation boots, enhance the appearance of his legs. The updated style would likely have the division color on the shoulders the same way Bashir's regular uniform did, which wouldn't look as nice as having it on a center panel, but Garak was more than willing to accept that sacrifice if it meant Bashir would wear something like this instead of his usual drab uniform.

Bashir smiled. “Well, I used to wear it on lighter days, when I was on-duty but just scheduled to do lab or paperwork. I prefer the standard uniform for potentially messy work. It's less uncomfortable for my uniform to get dirty than my legs.” He sighed. “On the Enterprise there were more doctors, so I could go days without seeing a patient, but here I was the only doctor for a while. I've gotten used to wearing the standard uniform all the time.”

“I'd like to see you in this,” Garak whispered before he could stop himself.

Bashir gave him a puzzled smile. “Elim, you _hate_ my uniforms. You're always complaining about how drab they look and how Starfleet should let us accessorize beyond the odd cultural piece.”

Garak took the few steps he needed to cross to Bashir's side and held the skant out. “Julian, this is the one time I will concede Starfleet has designed something properly.”

Bashir gave Garak a long look, but eventually he reached out and took the uniform. “Alright,” he agreed warily. He stood and quickly pulled the uniform on.

It looked even better than Garak had imagined. Where the standard uniform tended to look too large on Bashir's slender figure, the skant was more closely fitted and the center panel helped emphasize the subtle curves of his body. The short sleeves meant that Bashir's lean arms were displayed rather than hidden, and the uniform's skirt ended mid-thigh, leaving most of his legs uncovered as well.

“Gorgeous,” Garak whispered softly.

Bashir blushed and looked away. “It's just a uniform, Elim,” he protested quietly.

“On someone else, maybe,” Garak conceded. He slipped a hand around Bashir's waist and stepped so close their bodies were pressed lightly together. “But on you...” Garak breathed. “On you it is transformed into a work of art.” He cut off any attempts from Bashir to protest with a kiss.

Garak pressed forward, causing Bashir to back into and sit on the bed. Garak followed him down, pushing Bashir to lie back so that Garak could worship his body. They shifted slightly so they were better positioned on the bed, then Garak got to work. He sat back on his heels between Bashir's legs.

“I truly mean that,” Garak said seriously, smiling at Bashir as his thumbs began to lightly stroke the inside of Bashir's thighs. “This uniform...it's like it was designed for you. You look wonderful.”

“So I gathered,” Bashir sighed. He attempted to give Garak a wry look, but it instead came across as utterly besotted.

Garak pulled his hands away and shifted up to kiss Bashir properly, using one arm for balance. His free hand moved slowly up Bashir's thigh until it found his already hardening cock. Carefully, he began to stroke Bashir, eagerly swallowing his lover's gasps and moans as he stoked Bashir's arousal.

Garak just as greedily swallowed Bashir's whine when he pulled his hand away.

Garak broke their kiss with a smirk. He already had Bashir flushed and panting and eager, and he himself was well on his way to everting. He reached into the nightstand for lube that Bashir still kept there more out of habit than anything else. It was usually easier for them to use Garak's natural lubrication, but right now Garak wanted to hold back. He wanted to focus entirely on Bashir until it was absolutely necessary for him to evert.

He slicked up two fingers and slid first one then the other into Bashir.

“Surely Starfleet doesn't allow you to wear this single piece with nothing beneath it,” Garak inquired absently as he prepped Bashir.

Bashir's eyes rolled with disbelief rather than pleasure while Bashir's mind formulated a response. “No. Shorts or leggings are required for bipeds. And I'm usually wearing-” Bashir gasped, his hands pulling against the sheets. “Wearing underwear,” he finished breathlessly.

Garak withdrew his fingers, causing Bashir to whimper at their loss, and considered the lovely figure beneath him. He couldn't truly appreciate the way Bashir looked in the uniform from this position. Garak weighed his options.

“ _Elim,”_ Bashir whined. “Are you going to get on with it or not?”

Garak used his clean hand to caress Bashir's cheek, letting his fingers curl slightly into Bashir's beard. “So needy,” Garak taunted lightly.

That earned him a glare.

“ _You_ started all of this. _I_ was just trying to get dressed. Now _either_ we are going to have sex _or_ I am going to take care of things _myself,”_ Bashir threatened.

Garak smiled, then he took hold of Bashir's shoulder and waist and lay back on the bed, pulling Bashir over him. “I want you like this, my dear,” Garak purred. Bashir sighed, but he smirked and slid his hand along Garak's slit, clearly eager to coax Garak's prUt out. Garak closed his eyes and let himself evert into Bashir's waiting hands.

“Typical,” Bashir muttered teasingly. “You wind me up and then expect me to do all the work.”

Garak was working on a clever retort when Bashir shifted and then lowered himself onto Garak's prUt, making Garak's mind go delightfully blank.

As Bashir waited to allow himself to adjust, Garak forced his eyes open so that he could watch.

While Garak always found Bashir's naked form unspeakably attractive, as a designer, maker, and seller of garments he would also be the first to state that the right piece of clothing could do more than hide ones insecurities or perceived flaws, it could draw attention to one's strengths. Bashir was blessed with many strengths and the skant played to all of them. In this moment, Garak was convinced that the image of Bashir above him was the loveliest sight he'd ever seen.

Finally, Bashir began to move and Garak found himself forced to reevaluate his previous thought. This image, of Bashir clad in the skant but fully throwing himself into the motions of lovemaking, was clearly better than the one that had just proceeded it moments ago.

One of Garak's hands tangled uselessly in the sheets, but the other found its way to Bashir's thigh and once again slid its way up. Garak took hold of Bashir's cock and began to stroke it. Bashir's head fell back as he moaned in pleasure.

It wasn't much longer before Bashir finished, with Garak following shortly after.

Bashir pressed a brief kiss to Garak's lips before moving off of Garak and lying down beside him.

“Thank you for...indulging me, Julian,” Garak said softly, turning so that he could better see his lover.

Bashir smirked, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he lay a hand on Garak's cheek, his thumb lightly stroking along the scales.

“Well, it's not like I got _nothing_ out of it,” he teased. Then he glanced away, his face flushing. “Although I doubt I'll ever be able to wear a skant again.”

“Now _that_ would be a shame,” Garak replied sincerely.

“It's _your_ fault! You're the one with a _fetish_ for it,” Bashir retorted, still teasing.

Garak sighed. “Julian, just because I have a completely reasonable appreciation for how your body looks in a more flattering uniform that doesn't mean I have a fetish.”

“Whatever you say, darling.” Bashir smiled and sat up. “I'm going to take a shower, but that offer to pick out my clothes still stands.”

Garak sat up as well, catching Bashir's hand as Bashir stood up from the bed. “Were you serious about never wearing a skant again?” he asked, a bit of regret coloring his voice.

Bashir blushed and glanced away. “I can hardly be expected to remain professional knowing that you could be lurking around any corner waiting to pounce because of the style of uniform I chose to wear. Besides, I didn't wear it  _that_ much before.” He once again met Garak's eyes and slowly licked his lips. “Although I wouldn't be opposed to keeping one around, for old times' sake.” A mischievous and flirty expression appeared on his face.

Garak blinked, taken a little off-guard. Fortunately he managed to reply “Ah, just old times' sake then?”

Bashir lifted Garak's hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across Garak's knuckles. “And for your sake as well.”

 


End file.
